Poppy
by surrendertothesky
Summary: One shot. If Nick had a sister he didn't know about... Runs parallel to Ruthless and Star.


_This story takes place parallel to my other story, _Ruthless_. Check it out. There are BMR spoilers in here. You have been warned._

***

I've always been able to see ghosts, so when I found one in the corner of my dorm room at Tulane University, New Orleans, I wasn't especially surprised.

I dumped my bag on the bed, ignoring him entirely. I'd talk to him later when my other – living – roommate had buggered off.

"So," she was saying. "Is this your first time here? Where're you from? Your accent's kinda cool. I know a lot of great clubs. You wanna go party? I'll grab my friends from down the hall." She got up and was about to make good on that threat.

"Whoa, whoa. Calm down, girl. I only just got here. Half my shit's still downstairs." I stuck out my hand. "I'm Poppy, by the way."

"Sarah," she said, shaking my hand. "I'll help you bring your stuff up if you want."

"That'd be great, thanks."

We caught the lift back down to ground. If I'd been by myself, I would have taken the stairs. I have a thing about lifts. They scare the crap out of me. It's sort of a bit like claustrophobia, but only in lifts. I'd been trapped in one for four hours, ten minutes and forty four seconds when I was six years old. All by myself.

And, yes, I did count every second.

Mine and Sarah's room was on the fifth floor and it didn't take long to get to the bottom. But it felt like eternity, I tell you. Flippin' eternity. I tried to keep my breathing calm and imagined I was somewhere else. I nearly fell out of the door when we got to the bottom.

I totally meant to do that.

Sarah gave me a knowing look. "You don't like lifts, do you?"

"Nah, ya think?"

"Listen, put your stuff in the lift with me and you can walk up if you want."

That was the nicest thing anyone had said to me since I left home twenty four hours ago. I'm from Dunedin, New Zealand. That's twenty hours flying and a little under four hours at the airport in LA.

"Yeah," I said to Sarah. "That'd be great. Thank you so much."

We loaded my shit into the lift and then I ran up the stairs. It's how I get my exercise. I aimed to beat her up to fifth.

I didn't manage to but was bloody close. She'd only just started to pull my stuff out of the lift. "Jesus," she said when she saw me. "Did you run up or something."

"Yup."

We took my stuff to our room and I began to unpack. She stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, her arms folded, and watched me. "So," she said. "You wanna go clubbing? I've been here three days already and we don't have class 'til Monday. You keen?"

I considered her offer. I realised that she'd keep bugging me until I said yes. Even if I did say I'd been awake for nearly twenty four hours solid she's still want to go. "Yeah, alright," I said. "What kind of clubs?"

"Oh, just Sanctuary. The best bar ever. You like guys, right?"

"Yeah. What's that gotta do with anything?"

"You'll love Sanctuary. Trust me. What about being of age?"

I've always looked young for my age. Back home you can drink at eighteen, half the reason I'd saved coming here until my third year of uni _was_ so I could drink. "Yeah," I said. "I turned twenty one just last month."

"Cool. I'll tell the girls." She turned and rushed out down the hall.

I rooted through my bag until I found a dress I could wear. Before I got dressed I turned to the ghost and said, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't look while I get changed."

His jaw dropped. "You can see me? Wow. Sure thing, honey." He turned and faced the wall.

I dropped my jeans to the floor, glad to have them off my legs. Back home it was only just spring and the wind had been icy when I'd left. The humid summer air here had stuck my clothes to my skin, making me itch.

I pulled off my t-shirt and threw it on the bed. I slipped into my dress. It was black with a halter neck and came down to just above my knees. "Ok," I said to the ghost. "I'm decent."

He turned and looked me up and down. "Nice pins, honey," he said, grinning.

"Cheers."

If I was to guess how he'd died I would have said he overdosed on something. Probably alcohol. "How did you die?"

"Twenty one shots."

Bingo.

"Niiice. What's your name?"

"Lee."

I sat on the bed and pulled my hair out of its ponytail. I found my brush and began to pull it through my hair. My hair is a rich brown and is – other than my legs – the feature I like best about myself. It hangs to my waist

I was doing my eyes by the time Sarah came back. I gave my left eye one last swipe of mascara and turned to her. "What d'you think?"

Half of my hair was pulled up into a artfully messy bun and the rest of it hung to my loose, tendrils floated around my face. My eyes were thickly lined, making them appear even bluer than they were. The black dress brought out the paleness of my skin but didn't make me look pasty.

Her jaw dropped. Even I thought my transformation from plain but cute to stunner was pretty amazing. "You look great. Standing next to you, I'll never get laid." She laughed. "The others will be ready in a bit."

Sarah got dressed. After many times changing her mind, she ended up wearing a short black skirt and a red top.

We met the others in the hall and I was introduced to them. Their names were Dan (short for Danielle), Tara and Megan.

Dan had conned her little brother into driving us to Sanctuary and picking us up later. He wanted to come with us but wasn't of age for another six months. He was waiting for us downstairs.

We arrived at Sanctuary. And as soon as I stepped inside I knew why Sarah'd said I'd love it. Hot guys filled the place to the brim.

Talk about testosterone overdose.

We took a table in the middle of the room. After a moment a waitress came to our table. She was blonde, skinny and pretty. "Hi," she said. "What can I get you guys?"

We all pitched in with our orders. What were we having? Alcohol, alcohol and – you guessed it – more alcohol.

"Anything else?"

"Nah, we're good."

She turned and went back to the bar. Her name – Aimee – was written across the back of her shirt.

"That's the owner," Tara said. "It used to be owned by her parents but they died not long ago. Pretty much all the blonde guys working here are her brothers."

But I didn't hear a word she said because right at that moment a group of five men and three women came in. Just like the majority of the people already in the bar, they were all ridiculously good looking.

The blonde guy and smoker-guy were obviously attached. They both sported very expensive looking wedding rings. I assumed the woman the blonde guy had his arm around was his wife. If she wasn't and I was the guy's wife I'd want to kick her arse. He was fine, despite the scarring that covered one of his eye sockets. _Fine._

But it was the guy with a strange bow and arrow tattoo on his face that caught my eye. Not because he was so obviously good looking. But because I couldn't bring myself to look at him like that. Hell, he looked so much like me it was scary. The same hair – mine was longer, obviously – the same eyes, the list went on. "Who," I said, not taking my eyes off them, "is that?"

The others twisted in their chairs and looked was I was staring. "I don't know," Megan said. "I've seen the guy with the tat on his face in here before but I don't know his name."

Aimee brought our drinks over to us, then went off and took the new group's orders.

I looked around the bar and saw a stage over in the corner. A bunch of guys were setting up mics and amps and stuff. "There gonna be a band later?" I asked.

"Yeah," Sarah said. "The Howlers. They're the house band."

"Awesome. What d'they play?" I took a swig of beer.

"Metal. They mostly do covers but occasionally they come out with an original piece."

"Neat."

Suddenly, from over by the group I'd been watching earlier, I quite distinctly heard a voice say, "Sup, puppies." What struck me most about this was that the voice had a Kiwi accent. I looked up to see a blonde woman sitting at the table with the people I'd been watching. The other people at the table didn't seem very happy to see her. Especially the guy with the tat. I listened close and worked out why.

She was pissing them off. A lot.

Suddenly she raised a gun and shot out the light above their table. Aimee came rushing over and kicked her out. On her way back to the bar, Aimee passed by our table. "Aimee," I said.

"Yeah." She turned to face me. "Do you want something more?"

"No. I was just wondering, what's that guy's name? The one with the tattoo on his face?"

"Nick," she said. "His name's Nick Gautier. And I really wouldn't go there if I were you. He's a nasty little bugger." She went to turn away but I grabbed her wrist.

"Look," I said. "Just look at us."

She did and nearly dropped her tray. "Gods," she said. "You could be twins." She then lent down and said much more quietly, "Listen, come up to the bar. I need a second opinion on this."

I rose and said to Sarah, Dan, Tara and Megan. "Hey, I'll be back in a bit, guys."

They nodded and went back to their drinks and conversation.

I followed Aimee over to the bar where she conducted a survey with the bar staff. They all agreed that I could be Nick's sister. The last guy she asked had a much more interesting answer.

"Listen, Fang," Aimee said. "I want to ask you something."

"Ask away, baby."

"Now, see this woman here?" She gestured at me.

"Hi," I said, waving.

"Look at her and Nick and tell me what you think."

Fang looked. "Fuck," he said and narrowed his eyes at me. "You get out of here. Now."

"What?" I said, shocked. "What'd I do? I'm not even mildly tipsy."

"Yes," Aimee said. "Why should we chuck her out?"

He just looked at her. And I swear they must've been using telepathy because no one can communicate _that_ much with just a look.

"Right," she said. "I still think we should call Ash. Especially if you've got the funky vibe stuff going."

He nodded, pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled. "Yeah, hey, Ash. It's Fang... Yeah, I know. Listen, could you come down to the bar. Aimee's got a girl here who – well. You'll just have to see it for yourself... Yes, Thorn's mark is screaming at me. Almost as much as it does with Nick... Yeah, Nick's here. Jericho and Delphine, Jared, Nim, Sam and Zarek are with him... Simi, too." I distinctly heard someone swear very colourfully in ancient Greek on the other end of the phone. Yes, I can speak ancient Greek. I need it for my major, which is Ancient History. That and Latin, amongst other things. "Ok," Fang was saying into the phone. "See you." Fang snapped his phone shut and slid it back into his pocket. "He and Tory are coming now. I think the rush is because he wants Simi away from Nick." He grinned.

Aimee turned back to me. "Do you want another beer?" she asked, nodding at my empty bottle.

"Yeah, thanks." I hopped up on a bar stool and waited. Aimee brought me a beer and I drunk it, still staring at Nick. Still amazed by how alike we looked. I turned away and rest my elbows on the bar. I was suddenly homesick. I wanted to hear my mother's voice. I wanted to curl up and sleep. And I wanted to know why everybody in the bar was so damned good looking.

It made me feel kind of inadequate.

I didn't keep track of time. By the time Aimee's friends Ash and Tory had arrived I couldn't tell if it'd been five seconds or five hours since Aimee had given me the beer. I heard them before I saw them.

"That's her," Aimee said from behind me. "The one in the black dress."

I slid off my stool up and looked around at her. "Didn't your mother tell you it's rude to talk about someone behind their back?" I glared.

But my glared faded and I clamped my teeth together to stop my jaw hitting the floor. The guy standing with Aimee was six foot eight. His hair was black and nearly as long as mine. _Hot damn_, but he was fine.

The woman at his elbow was about six one – two inches taller than me – and was nearly the complete opposite of him. Where he was the poster child for Goth subculture, she was plain and unadorned. She was quietly beautiful rather than so blatant about it like most of the other women in the bar.

"Ash, Tory. See for yourself. Compare her to Nick."

The woman cocked her head, then stuck her hand out. "Hi," she said. "I'm Tory Parthenopaeus. This is my husband, Ash. What's your name?"

"Poppy Halifax," I said, shaking her hand. When she let go I gave my hand to Ash. Me and him shook.

He was staring at me as if in shock. "Hell," he said. "Tory, get Nick. That boy needs to see this."

Tory came back a minute later with Nick, a ginga guy and a girl dressed up to match Ash. If he wasn't married, I would have said that this girl was Ash's girlfriend not Tory.

Nick's eyes widened as he saw me. Seeing him up close made me realise just how alike we were. If it weren't for the day old stubble, the tat and the five inches he had over me, I wouldn't be able to pick us apart if I saw a photo of us together. Somehow he wore my face and didn't look girly while he did it.

The ginga guy hissed and went for my throat.

I stumbled back. Nick grabbed him and pulled him away from me. "Jared," Nick said. "Don't you fucking touch her."

Jared shoved Nick off him. "Get off me," he spat.

"Hmmph," Fang said from behind the bar. "I see you've all come to the same conclusion as I have."

I was lost. Completely lost. "Hey," I said. "Will someone please tell me why the fuck he just tried to kill me?" I flapped my hand at Jared.

"Poppy," Ash said. "What was your father's name?"

"Adarian Malachai," I said looking at Nick. "What about you?"

"Same," he breathed.

Eternity stretched out between us. Time stopped. I felt something snap inside me. Suddenly I seized him and hugged him. I didn't want to let go. I had a family.

A family!

All my life I've been alone. Just me and my mother trying to carve out way in the world. My mother had been an only child and my grandparents died when I was two. They left everything to me and Mum. We've never been hurting for cash. But money doesn't buy happiness. Or a family.

Nick pulled away first. "God," he said. "I don't know what to say. How can I have not known about you?"

"My Mum never told him. She dumped his arse as soon as she realised she was pregnant. She didn't want a guy like him near me. What about you?"

"He was a nasty son of a bitch," Nick said. "He hit my Mom. Brought killers home on the odd occasions he wasn't inside."

Jared snorted. "He was a chicken. He just did want me to find him. If he was still alive, I'd rip his heart out. How does it feel, Nick? Knowing that you father was a slut, too?"

"Yeah, whatever, Jared. It's not like you can talk. I seem to remember someone telling me that you've been chained to a wall for the last couple of thousand years."

Whoa. Whoa. Hold it! Stop the train!

"A thousand years?" I sputtered.

Ash looked over at Aimee. "Can we go into the house?" he asked.

She nodded and led us back behind the bar. We walked through a door guarded by a very scary looking blonde guy all in black. "You can't bring her back in here," he said with a sneer pointing at me. "She's human."

Aimee drew herself up to her full height. "Do I own this house or not, Remi? Move it or you'll limp."

Remi glared but stepped aside. I followed Ash and Nick in. Tory and Jared took up the rear. But, holy hell, it felt like stepping into a time warp. All the furniture was antique. I'm no expert, but not knock offs, by the looks of it, either. The genuine article.

We sat down and Aimee shut the door on us. "Let me try this again. He's been alive over a thousand years?" I pointed at Jared.

"Before we tell you anything," Tory said, taking a glance at Ash, "we need your promise that you will not repeat anything we tell you to anyone who doesn't already know."

"Ok."

Nick sat next to me. Tory and Ash had the couch opposite us. Jared sat off to the side all by himself.

"Do we have to tell her?" Jared asked. "We could solve all our problems by killing her."

Jesus, what with all this talk of killing? Don't they know it's illegal? "Hey!" I said. "It wouldn't solve _my_ problem."

"Yeah, it would. Death is the ultimate cure."

"Jared," Nick growled. "If you lay a hand on my sister, I swear I'll rip your throat out."

He called me his sister! His sister!

"Nick," Ash said. "If she talks, we will have to kill her, you know that."

"You bastard," Nick snarled. "You just want an excuse to kill another of my family."

Ash blanched and his eyes dropped in shame. Tory rubbed his shoulder. "I didn't kill Cherise, Nick. You know that. We all know that."

"I don't," I said.

"Alright," Ash said. "Here goes." He explained how my father had been the Malachai and Jared was the Sephiroth. And they were mortal enemies. Eons ago there had been entire armies of Malachai and Sephiroth. But they had dwindled down to only one of each. Our father had died in prison when Nick was eighteen or so – I would have been eight. But Nick had only come into his power a couple of months ago at Christmas. I wasn't technically Malachai because I was female. Until now, most in the know had thought Malachai could only father sons. So, I had the power but was officially human.

"So," I said to Ash when he'd finished. "What are you and Tory then?"

Nick laughed. "Gods, girl. You aint gonna get a straight answer out of him. Ash is the King of Vague."

Ash squirmed but Tory answered, "We're Atlantean gods."

"Holy hell. Like sunk under the sea? Plato's Atlantis?"

Tory perked up. "You read Plato?"

"Yeah. I do Ancient History at Tulane. The _Symposium_ is awesome. I love Alcibiades' speech."

She grinned. "I know." She jabbed Ash in the stomach with her elbow. "You should see this one when he's drunk. Highly amusing."

Our conversation went on for hours. Jared left, saying he was getting bored. By the time I looked at the clock on the wall again it was past midnight. Until now, I hadn't realised just how tired I was. I yawned, then said, "I should probably go see the girls I came in with. Make sure they aren't looking for me, or something." I stood and went for the door.

Nick said, "I'll take you home when you want to go, ok?"

"That'd be great thanks. I'll just go see the girls and then we can go if you want?"

"Ok."

I checked in with the girls. They were all completely plastered. "Heeey," Sarah slurred when she saw me. "Wher've y' been?"

I shrugged, unable to keep the silly smile off my face. I knew they'd take it the wrong way.

They all grinned. "Oh, luuuuckyyyy!!!" Dan said and knocked back a shot. The table was littered with empty shot glasses. Jesus, and I thought Otago students back home were heavy drinkers...

"Listen," I said. "I think I'll be going home now. I'll see you folk later."

"You goan home wif'm?"

"Yeah," I said. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Ok," Sarah sobered up enough to say. "You be careful now."

"I will. See ya, guys."

"Bye."

I turned and walked back over to Nick. "Ok," I said. "They're cool."

We walked out and as we passed the girls they yelled obscene things at us. Nick chuckled. "Nice friends you've got."

"I know. I only met them a couple of hours ago. Sarah, the one in the red top, is my roommate. She pretty much insisted I come."

"You're at Tulane, right?"

"Yeah."

"I went there. I was doing Law."

"You sound like you got cut off in the middle of it..." I left the statement hanging. Most people didn't like it when I guessed things accurately.

"Yeah, I did."

"Why did you stop?" We'd reached his car. I don't know much about cars but Nick's looked expensive and very fast.

He waited until we were both inside and the door was shut before he answered. "I died," he said.

"You what?"

"There are many types of walking dead in the world, Poppy. And until a couple of months ago I thought I was just a Dark-Hunter. An unusual one, sure. But that's all I thought I'd ever be."

"Dark-Hunter?"

"Immortal vamp slayer to you."

"Vampires? Jesus."

And so began the second explanation of the night. Oh, wait. It was morning now. Hell, I needed to get some sleep. In a bit over twenty four hours I'd have my first class.

Nick explained about the Apollites and Apollo's curse on his own children. About their conversion to Daimons by stealing souls. About Stryker, the leader of the Daimons. There was barely disguised hate in his tone. I let it slide. I got the feeling that asking him about it would not be pretty. He explained about the birth of the Were-Hunters – that's werewolves to you, but in other animal flavours, too. Lions, tigers, bears...

Oh, my!

I thought the world's human wars were bad enough. But to discover a whole new set, fought by people who could kill others with a look... Destroy countries with a thought...

I was beginning to see why the saying "Ignorance is bliss" existed.

"You know," he said. "You can live with me if you want. Or I could pay your fees at Tulane. You're my family, Poppy. And I look after my family as best I can."

"That's really nice, Nick, but I don't want – or need – your charity. But I think – I think I want to get used to the idea of having a brother first."

"Ok, that's cool. I'm kinda shell shocked, too."

We didn't speak all the way back to my dorm. He parked a little down the street as there were no spaces right outside. We were only just outside the car when I saw a group of blonde men and women intercepted us.

The guy in the lead smiled at us and flashed fang. A Daimon! "Stryker," he said, "wants to have a word with you, Nick."

And then they were on him. My brother fought them off with amazing skill and grace. I stood in awe until three of them came at me. I kicked the first guy in the balls, he dropped like a stone, groaning in pain. I snapped my elbow up and caught the second in the throat. She stopped with a wheezing gasp. I flung out my arm and caught her in the temple. She dropped, out cold. The third circled me. Watching, waiting.

"Bring it," I said. "Or are you too fucking chicken?"

He ran at me. I side stepped and clipped him on the back of the head with my elbow. As he stumbled, I stuck my foot out and tripped him. He fell, sprawling on the ground.

Nick finished him off. I couldn't watch. Knowing someone I was related to had killed and would kill again was one thing, seeing it quite another. Nick straightened and wiped his hands on his jeans. Nothing remained of the Daimons except a shimmer of dust in the air.

Oh, and the one I'd gotten in the throat. She was lying on the ground, wheezing, only just coming round. Nick grabbed her by the collar. "You tell Stryker," he said, his eyes blazing red, "that if he wants me dead, he can do it himself."

She nodded frantically.

Nick dropped her and she ran off, tripping over her own feet. He turned and just stared at me for the longest while.

"What?" I said finally.

"Where on earth did you learn to fight like that?"

"Would you believe me if I told you it was just instinct?"

He just looked at me.

"Yeah. I suppose it was a silly question." I tucked my hair behind my ears, then said, "I played netball when I was a kid. It's kind of like basketball but you can't dribble and is non-contact." I laughed. "That bit's a total joke though. You just need to watch one game between us – that's New Zealand – and Australia to know that. The rules are pretty much: anything goes. Unless the ref sees. Then you're screwed." I laughed again. "Anyway. I was real short as a kid. I know, who would believe it looking at me? But I swear to God it's true. And when you're as short as I was you learn to improvise. I ran around with my elbows out pretty much the entire time."

He laughed and I yawned. "Jesus, I'm tired."

"You want to meet up again sometime?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I'd like that."

We hugged and said goodbye. Then I turned, went inside and began the trudge up the stairs.

I unlocked my room and, without turning on the light, flopped on my bed.

"Poppy?" said a voice.

I rolled over and saw Lee standing by the window. He glowed faintly. In the wonder that was this night, I'd forgotten I had a ghost in my room.

"How was your night?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

He grinned. "Try me."

And so I told him.


End file.
